Changing of the Tide
by Touchstone's Ranna
Summary: Chlorr was once destined to be an Abhorsen. What could have happened for her to change sides?


She stood alone as she always did. Even though she was one of the most important people to the Old Kingdom, she was often looked over.

She was merely another in an old line of good Necromancers. One of the Abhorsen...

The young woman looked out the window of her home in the Abhorsen's house, with the current Abhorsen, for she was only the Abhorsen-in-Waiting.

Her Aunt, she believed was the Abhorsen now. But she could not be entirely sure, for the Abhorsen line was scattered about many times over. All that the young woman knew for sure was that she was the master of the second set of bells to tame the Dead and that she was to study the Book of the Dead each day, to make sure that she had full knowledge of what she had to fight... How to bind it, break it and ultimately destroy the Dead Creatures that plagued the Living.

Yet, the woman never really thought of this as her purpose. She had always thought that she would become something more powerful. Something that uttered fear in everything and everyone among her.

"Niece! Niece, it is time for breakfast!" called the voice of the woman's aunt.

"Coming!" she called back, her black hair flowing behind her as she swiftly began to bolt down the stairs.

The smell of the newly cooked meal prepared by the sendings wafted itself into her nostrils, awakening her senses fully now.

The women ate silently without any communication between them. This was usual, though the younger of the two hated it. She yearned to speak with a Living being. The only one that she could sometimes talk to was the little white cat that lived with them. A servant to the Abhorsen for centuries now, if the young woman had it right. Though he would usually ignore the girl unless a fish was dangled above his little head.

The young woman then set out to the gardens. She eventually ended up at the fountain in the middle of the yard. She forgot what it was called, but the name was really of no importance to her. The only thing that she liked about it was the fact that it actually "listened" to her. No interruptions or speculations or thoughts of what the woman could do better. Just ears to listen.

It was then that the woman felt the cold presence of Death tingle at her senses. Something around her had died, or rather it was about to die.

The thing's spirit was just beginning to make its journey into Death, but not a particularly swift pace... No. It still had some Life in it, and it was fighting to survive.

Thus the woman took out her sword and took a stance before beginning to break the fabric between Life and Death.

She slowly entered Death, feeling the coldness of it rushing across her face. The river pulled at her knees, beckoning for them to give way and let its waters take the young woman away into the deeper depths of Death.

But the woman resisted, as her aunt taught her to since an early age.

Though the woman had to admit to herself that today, just today, resisting the river's pull did not seem the right thing to do. It felt as though... as though she were being called to some sort of being far beyond the First Gate...

But then her attention came back to the small bit of Life that she came into Death to save. It was a small bird. A baby crow, from the looks of it, but of course things always looked different in Death...

She walked over to the struggling spirit; it trying to break itself free of the current, swimming against it fruitlessly...

The young woman picked up the bird in her hands. She stroked its feathers lightly and then began to make her way back to Life, cooing to the bird as though she were its mother.

Once she flung the creature into Life, the young woman stayed back in Death, still feeling the call from the thing from beyond the First Gate...

She thought for a moment. She knew that it was against all that her aunt had taught her, but she wanted to know what was calling her.

So the young woman made her way towards the First Gate and passed it. She did the same thing for the next few Precincts and Gates until she reached the Fifth Precinct.

She did not go any further, knowing that if she did without calling the thread of passage she would be disfigured and deformed until neither her body, shape, nor spirit would be recognizable, not even to those closest to her... not even to herself.

She stood there for a while. Just standing and waiting for what she felt was to be calling her.

It was coming.

She could feel the presence of a strong Dead spirit. She could not quite place it, but she knew that it was strong... It was not quite a Mordicant, for it was stronger than one.

The woman was about to turn back through the Gate until she felt the Dead Thing come right behind her.

Quickly, the woman drew Saraneth, the first bell that came to her mind. She had it ready in her hand, fingers on the clapper, making sure that it sounded only when she commanded it to.

"Do you think that you can send me away with that mere trinket?" asked the Thing, it's voice raspy, but still quite human-like.

It was a Greater Dead, the young woman thought. A Greater Dead that called her to it... How did she fall to this sort of trickery?

"You- you cannot win against me, for I am one of the Abhorsen. I am to defeat you... you and all of your kind." She faltered as she said this, not really believing that she could do what she said.

"You do not have the power." Said the Greater Dead Thing. It made a noise that almost sounded like laughter, but soon it cleared up into nothing but soft echoes among the Precinct, "But you wish for more, don't you Child? You wish to strike fear into the hearts of those around you? For all to obey you and tremble at your name? To see you unequaled to anyone, not even the Abhorsen that is currently your teacher?"

The woman's mind boggled for a moment. How did this creature know so much about her? How did it know about her inner most thoughts? Her innermost wishes? It seemed rather farfetched. But still, the young woman was intrigued, and her comprehension laxed to the point that it no longer existed.

"Yes, so what if that is what I wish? How would you help me fulfill this?" she asked the creature.

Inside, she felt a sort of inner-self screaming at her. Telling her not to listen to this beast and to flee while there was still time. Before she made a decision that she could not come back from. Before she made a mistake that she would have to live with for the rest of her life, perhaps the most miserable mistake that a human being could make.

But the woman dismissed this voice within seconds. She did not care of what it said, for it only spoke of the logical things. The woman had never been truly happy with being a mere Abhorsen. A part of her, a part of her had always wanted more. To find complete control in the Dead and to send them to do her bidding without remorse...

A Necromancer...

Yes, this is what she had been searching for. And this creature could give it to her. It was the gateway to her true self; the young woman felt that now. It was fate that she would find this creature. To be called to her destiny...

But still, there was that twinge of uncertainty. She then fought against herself for a moment, banishing logic in the sight of power. Yes, that wonderful power that had evaded her for mostly all of her life now...

She embraced the Dead creature, feeling its twisted spirit working on her body. It seemed that it was a servant. Sent to give her the power that she yearned for.

Once she turned away from the creature, she noticed that the bells had turned from the warm light brown mahogany to jet-black, almost the color of ash. She almost gasped at the change, not at the color, but at the fact that there was now no warmth coming from the bells as there used to be. They were cold to the touch, and tinged her fingers, as though a small fire were in each, resisting her touch...

She then looked at her sword. The metal had melted away and now in the silver blade's place was a blade of fire. A ferocious fire that licked the air and water alike, trying to consume and break down anything that it could touch.

"Child, you have come into your true birthright." The Creature said, a small chuckle evident in its voice, "You have changed now. You have changed from Chlorr the Abhorsen-in-Waiting, to Chlorr the Necromancer."

The young woman blinked, thinking of what she had just heard. She then straightened herself up, taking pride in her new name. Then she muttered quietly to herself, so that the Dead Thing could not hear:

"Yes... I am Chlorr the Necromancer, just arriving to my birthright. And to the beginning of my destiny..."


End file.
